


Crashing, Tumbling, and Generally Falling For You

by SupremeCommanderOfPencils



Category: Psych
Genre: AU, F/M, One Maybe Two Ways Out, Whump, season 5 episode 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupremeCommanderOfPencils/pseuds/SupremeCommanderOfPencils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Temper tantrums have this way of ending anticlimactically. But Shawn's always done things differently...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Story I created for a whumping contest. It's a slight AU for One, Maybe Two Ways Out. Hope you enjoy!

"Get in the car, Shawn." The ex-cop said sternly to the figure on top of the short set of stairs, standing where the light of the orange street lamp barely touched him.

"I believe that would be categorized as a kidnapping, given the fact that said action would be against my will." Shawn said cynically, his shoes thudding reluctantly down the concrete steps of the quiet, empty building.

"Not in the mood, kid." Henry crossed his arms and glowered at his son. "You wake me up at 1:30 A.M. with a phone call begging me to drive out for fifty-two minutes – in the rain – to a strange town to pick you up…"

Shawn frowned and glanced up at the star speckled blackness, his father's aggravated rant shifting to the background with the crickets. The thin crescent moon illuminated a few chunky clouds that hovered in the night sky, but they had yet to drench anything down below.

Redirecting his focus, Shawn looked at Henry's truck, noting the windshield wipers that were stopped further up on the glass than usual, having recently been used. Squinting at the tailgate, also he spotted a wet glimmer in the streetlight.

Shawn gave an inward sigh as he glanced over at his motorcycle, predicting a fun trip back home. He tuned into Henry again.

"…trying to follow those crappy directions you gave me—"

"Yeah, Dad, believe me, calling you was a last resort. Did you get the gas?" Shawn stepped past Henry and placed his hands against the edges of the truck bed as he peered inside, looking for the red container of precious fuel for his thirsty vehicle.

"Shawn, you're not driving that thing back home; I just came through a torrential downpour on the way up here. Feel this humidity? That rain isn't far behind us."

"You didn't bring the gas…" Shawn muttered, irritably working his jaw as he shoved off from the side of the truck. "What about my bike? I can't just leave it here to be picked up by whoever drives past."

"Why do you think I have a truck, Shawn?" Henry spoke in an obvious tone as he moved to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's just great, Dad." He gauged the height of the truck and mentally weighed his motorcycle. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the Incredible Hulk."

Henry ignored him as he reached into the shadow of the truck bed and tugged out a wide length of wood, and adjusted it so one end touched the ground at a slope, creating a ramp.

"Of course," Shawn said in annoyance at the obvious solution and now picturing the plank he'd barely noticed in the back while looking for the gas container.

"You know, Shawn, if—"

"Dad, please, I really don't need another life lesson right now… Can we just get my bike and go?"

Henry watched him for moment, then nodded his head toward the dormant motorcycle. Within a few minutes, they had gotten the bike in the back of the truck.

After Henry double checked Shawn's work at securing the bike, he opened his door and sat down behind the wheel. The ex-cop rolled his eyes as the truck lurched from his son's sharp movements as he jumped into the passenger seat and grabbed the door handle, jerking it closed.

Henry silently started the engine and U-turned down the abandoned street, heading back home.

True to Henry's words, about five minutes later the truck drove back under the hidden storm clouds and into a steady rain.

Henry sighed and flicked on the windshield wipers, frowning at the streak of rain they missed on the lower half of the glass. He sat a little straighter to see over it, making a mental note to buy a new set of wipers the next time he was at the store.

Daring a quick glance, Henry looked away from the road and over at Shawn, who was slouching against the door, absentmindedly running his thumb under the seatbelt across his shoulder as he stared out the dark window. Something was obviously on his mind.

Henry looked back at the road, feeling the urge to say something to his son, though he wasn't quite sure how.

The driving rain intensified, thudding against the roof of the truck and creating a squeak with each frantic pass of the wipers. Henry slowly applied the brake as he lost sight of the road up ahead in the rain.

"Where's Gus?"

"What?" Shawn looked over at Henry.

"You always drag Gus along on a case. Isn't that the reason you were at some random town forty miles away at one in the morning? If you were playing psychic and trying to track down a suspect without letting anyone else know where-"

"I'm not on a case, Dad." Shawn cut off the usual scolding of being irresponsible and reckless. At the corner of his eye, he saw Henry furrow his brow and glance toward him.

"Then what in the world were you doing out here?"

"Everybody takes midnight walks on the beach; this is my version. Can't I enjoy a good moonlit ride near the beach?"

"Not when there's no beach nearby or enough gas in that death machine of yours."

"Don't hate on the bike."

"I have a right when it quits on you in the middle of nowhere."

"The gas meter was broken."

"Then you should have taken care of it."

"Don't hate on me either."

"I'm not; I'm simply—"

"Telling me what to do like when I was nine?"

"Shawn, don't start."

"You said that a lot when I was nine, too."

Henry sighed, shooting a look over at Shawn, who continued to stare out his window. "Shawn, I could have ignored your phone call and let Gus handle it, or even call Lassiter on you, or, heaven forbid, let you figure it out for yourself. But I didn't. As usual, I came to your rescue and drove all the way out here and I believe I have earned the right to know why I had to do so in the first place."

"Didn't you always tell me not to distract you while you were driving in the rain?" Shawn countered.

"Shawn, you're really starting to tick me off."

"Welcome to my side of the universe."

Henry rolled his eyes. "You know I can pull over and kick you out in the rain at any time."

"Yeah, but you won't." Shawn spoke without hesitation. "Your signature on my birth certificate binds you to protect me."

"Why are you being such a crab?"

"Gee, I don't know, Dad. Let's look at the options here," Shawn retorted, shifting in his seat to face straight ahead. "Could it be, A, it's past my bedtime and I didn't have my soothing glass of milk with Mrs. Guster's delicious dozen of chocolate chip cookies that she thinks she sends to Gus every week; B, crabs happen to be my favorite animal, food, and/or negative emotion; or three…"

Shawn trailed off as headlights shone into his eyes.

He wasn't quite sure how it happened – he figured it was either somehow caused by his hyperactive memory snapping to attention, something to do with the word 'adrenaline' that crossed his mind, or maybe that his heart was a time machine. Whatever the reason, just as his panicked heartbeat doubled, everything shifted into a slower pace. He ran a quick compare, making note that it was not exactly slow motion like in the movies, but not quite real speed either... Interesting.

While a Cheerio sized portion of his brain figured that out, the rest of his mind was focused on tracing the SUV that appeared straight in front of them through the curtain of rain. Even though it was obvious, Shawn couldn't help but jerk his hand up and point toward the vehicle in their path. "Dad, look out!" His other hand automatically reached toward the steering wheel as his right foot stomped on an imaginary brake.

In response, Henry jerked the wheel to the right and slammed the brakes, but the slick roads continued to shove the truck forward as it started to skid sideways, following the slanted tires.

Neither of them had to be psychic to know what was going to happen when the front of the truck rolled off the side of the pavement as the other car continued to advance on the wrong side of the blurred road.

With his left hand still outstretched toward the wheel, Shawn tightly gripped the door with his right and looked to his dad.

Without looking away from the sight before him, Henry tensed as he ordered, "Close your eyes, Shawn."

His heart pounding audibly, Shawn suddenly found his eyes shut tight against what he knew was coming.

In his mind, he could still see the image of his dad behind the wheel as clearly as if he could see through his eyelids. But that scene was soon blasted from his head as he felt the sudden impact of the oncoming car.

The force shoved Shawn heavily against the door and caused his head to crack against the window. He winced, tensing as he felt the truck move unnaturally beneath him.

Suddenly, his sense of gravity shifted, and with a jolt, he realized that the truck was balancing on its two right wheels, getting ready to fall on its side.

Unable to move, Shawn's weight against the car door gave the truck the final shove it needed.

Shawn's seatbelt locked, cutting into his shoulder as he jerked against the restraint. He felt his body temporarily lift from the seat before it caught against the belt and was slammed back down again.

Then the action repeated.

In the confusing jerks, slams, and falls, Shawn made the only sense that he could: The truck was rolling downhill.

In the darkness, the location of the road had been previously unknown. Now Shawn realized that the road must have been on a slight wooded incline, judging by the snaps of branches that he heard outside. With the angle that they had slid into and the power of the car that hit them must had been enough to push them down the hill.

The jerking routine continued down the slope, until a loud burst of pain exploded through Shawn's head.

The following sound of shattered glass transitioned into a dark silence.


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn didn't realize how suddenly tired he was until a muffled voice pestered him – in fact, he didn't even know he was asleep until the voice told him to wake up.

"Shawn…" The familiar voice buzzed in and out of focus. "Shawn!"

Shawn knew there was something he was supposed to do in response, but his aching head refused to let him think.

"Shawn, answer me, are you okay?"

Oh yeah, that's what it was.

"Dad?" Shawn wrinkled his forehead, sidetracked by the decision of whether he should waste the energy to try and close his gasping mouth. He settled for touching his teeth together in a grimace as an ache blasted through the side of his head.

"Shawn – thank God…are you alright?" Henry's troubled voice reached him again.

Shawn thought for a moment, trying to connect the proper meaning to the words. "Yes…ow…no…maybe…repeat the question, sir, I know I'll get it this time…"

"You may still be a bit dazed." He heard Henry comment.

"I am not a daisy…" Shawn argued, tilting his head toward his father's voice.

"Open your eyes, kid."

Having forgotten that they were still closed, Shawn worked eyes open, taking a few moments to get them to stay that way. The blurred scene before him slowly came into focus, the damage being revealed by the small light on the roof of the cab that somehow still worked.

The windshield was intact, but displayed a spider web of cracks through the thick glass. Pushed up towards the windshield was the crumbled hood of the truck that blocked most of their view outside. Shawn looked out of his window to try and get his bearings, but came face to bark with a large tree that must have been mainly responsible for their stop. He looked down to see the dent in his door from where the metal formed around the trunk that blocked the door.

A bang grabbed his attention and Shawn jerked his head toward the other side of the cab, then immediately stood still, trying to counteract the dizziness that rocked through his head. The truck's light added to the discomfort, the white beams seeming to be able to cut into his eyes and flare through his throbbing head. He winced, narrowing his eyes into slits, still trying to understand through his mental haze what had made the noise.

He heard the curse before he could concentrate on Henry, who was jerking the handle on his door as he thrust his shoulder against the frame, trying to get it to budge, but with no luck. Henry gave a growl of frustration, leaning back in his seat.

Shawn stared at him, not quite sure if he was supposed to or not, but the slash of dark red he saw on Henry's forehead distracted him.

Henry caught his look, and then raised his hand in front of Shawn's face, loudly snapping his fingers. "Hey! Shawn. Focus."

Shawn hadn't even realized how muffled his senses had gradually become before Henry's sudden snap caused his eyes and ears to restart.

"What – I'm fine." Shawn declared, sharply blinking his eyes clear.

"I wouldn't call having a concussion 'fine', Shawn."

Shawn attempted a tired scoff. "What are you talking about? You're always telling me to go to a confession."

"I said you probably have a concussion." He corrected.

"…You mean like the ones that sell hot dogs?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Not concession. Concu—Forget it. This just proves you have one."

"I wish I had one," Shawn said, his words getting lazy as he gazed out the rain-streaked window. "'Cause I got a sudden craving for hot dogs…"

"Shawn, pay attention."

"But I still want a hot dog…"

"Alright, Shawn. We'll go get you one as soon as we're out of this mess," Henry humored him. "But right now, you have to tell me where you're hurt."

Shawn furrowed his brow as he spotted a streak on his door's window that didn't match the raindrops. He followed the crimson smear up to where it met with multiple cracks that radiated from a single point in the glass.

Automatically, Shawn reached up and touched the side of his pounding head, flinching when a sharp pain flashed from where his fingers touched the skin. He pulled back his hand and watched the transferred blood trail down his fingertips, matching the streak on the window.

The stinging pain sliced through some of the fog around his brain and he grimaced, releasing a low groan as he gently replaced his palm against his cut. "I guess I hit my head on the window."

That pain then unlocked Shawn's awareness as more aches began to reveal themselves.

His right knee complained at being straightened. His left shoulder throbbed from where the seatbelt had dug in. His stomach, sore on the outside from jerking against the belt, was also bubbling with a slight nauseous feeling.

His mind flashed to one of Gus's medical books he had once found and was able to catch a mental glimpse of the words loss of consciousness, nausea/vomiting, and headache as symptoms of a concussion right before his throbbing head blurred the image.

Shawn desperately hoped he wouldn't reach the other side of that slash.

Shifting to sit a little straighter, Shawn moved his left arm that was limp against the seat, still slightly outstretched toward the steering wheel.

He suddenly gasped as pain instantly snapped through his elbow, shooting down his forearm and reverberating up his shoulder.

He breathed out a pained exclamation as he draped his arm across his stomach, scrunching his eyes closed. "Ah, I think I broke my funny bone," He squeezed the words through his teeth, leaning forward as he cradled his injured arm.

Shawn slowly exhaled as the pain began to recede in his arm. He carefully straightened his back as he reclined against the seat and sent a glance toward Henry. "What about you?"

"Couple of scrapes and bruises, but I'm fine." He brushed the questioned off as he glanced through his window and up toward the road. "Better than the idiot who hit us is going to be if I ever find him. I can just see the edge of the road; he's gone and driven off – didn't even check to see if we were still alive. I wish I had gotten his plate number then I could report him directly for a hit and run…"

Shawn wrinkled his forehead. He remembered the headlights hitting his eyes so that he couldn't see the license plate, and when the light did shift enough for him to see, blackness replaced the image.

"Why did you tell me to close my eyes?" Shawn looked over at Henry.

He caught Shawn's gaze before he looked away, moving his hand as he spoke, "I…well, once, before you were born, I was driving with a friend …we got into an accident with a drunk driver and, well, he didn't make it." He glanced back at Shawn, moving his finger to his temple. "Those kind of experiences stick with you no matter what; you can hide it, but when that memory comes back up, it's as clear as if it's happening right in front of you… And for you, with your…well, I just wish that I had closed my eyes…any bit helps."

Shawn lowered his gaze. "Oh…"

"Now…get that phone out of your pocket and call for help."

"Uh, right…" Shawn moved his hand away from his throbbing elbow. Trying to move as little as possible, he slid down the seat and shifted his legs, trying to unfold his waist so he could reach into his pocket and grab his iPhone.

"…Well?"

"Almost…why do they make guy's pockets so deep?" Shawn bit his lip as he snagged the top of his phone between two fingers. "Got it!"

Shawn pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. "Aw, no!"

"What? No signal?" Henry questioned.

"No," Shawn complained. "I got a text from Barry Polkins, some guy from high school, asking me if I want to go to lunch with him tomorrow. I hate that guy. He stalks me on Facebook and he smells like mashed potatoes. I'm not even sure how he got my number-"

"Shawn, is that really a priority right now?"

"If you'd met this guy, you'd understand my dilemma."

"Well, I haven't, and I don't." Henry retorted. "Now, call for help."

"…Gus would understand," Shawn muttered as he tapped on the phone's screen, dialing 911.

"What are you doing?" Henry suddenly questioned, causing Shawn's thumb to hover over the send button.

He sent Henry a confused look. "I'm calling for help. What, I can't it good enough for you?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Shawn, you work as a consultant for the Santa Barbra Police Department. Don't go through the operating service; use your connections and call someone you know is going to come right out and get us and start tracking this guy. Call Juliet."

Shawn felt his stomach lurch, the nausea begging to be noticed. "Uh…"

He must have not responded fast enough, because Henry reached over, grabbed the phone, and started searching through the contacts, working the touch screen like no man over fifty Shawn had ever seen. He must have stolen his phone that one time…

"No! Dad!" Shawn protested, louder than he meant to. He automatically started to reach for the phone with his closest hand, but was quickly stopped by the pain that bit at his elbow. He clenched his teeth and gave a slight growl of pained frustration as he shook his head. "No, she…she won't answer."

"Why? What'd you do to tick her off this time?" Henry accused.

"I didn't do anything. Jules…Jules is gone…she went off on a vacation with Declan for two weeks; they left today…or yesterday, I guess." Shawn glanced out at the night sky, noting that the rain had slowed to a drizzle that tapped against the truck.

Henry raised his eyebrows. "Oh…okay, I see." He nodded. "That explains it."

Shawn furrowed his brow, taken slightly aback at his amused tone. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"It means I realize now why you were so crabby earlier." Henry casually explained, continuing his search through Shawn's phone. "That Declan fellow is off with your girl and you don't like it."

"Juliet isn't my girl."

"Hence the crabbiness." Henry held the phone up to his ear.

Shawn frowned at the truth in his dad's words. Juliet leaving was the whole reason he was now in this mess.

Jules had told him that she would be gone, not for four days, but for two weeks with Declan. While his heart scrambled to catch up, Shawn did what he did best and rambled to prolong their time together.

He had meant to just say the usual crap about having a good time, in order to try and distance himself. But at Juliet's troubled expression, he realized he couldn't stop until he'd erased that look, wanting to end on a happy note for her. The next thing he knew, he was telling her what he did himself, taking pictures of moments in his head and storing them in his heart to keep.

Then she stopped him with a kiss.

And now she was gone.

The memory had pestered him, looping in his mind until about midnight when he couldn't take it anymore – he got on his motorcycle, picked a road, and kept going, focusing only on driving.

Until his bike stuttered to a halt, out of gas.

Gus had refused to come pick him up when Shawn couldn't promise him that the place he was stranded in was within his after-hour safe zone and had proper lighting on the streets.

That left only his dad to call.

"Alright," Henry said, ending the phone call. "They've got our GPS location and are contacting the nearest hospital. They'll be here soon."

Shawn sighed. "Great. Now I've got to deal with a hospital, too."

"Well, Shawn, if you would learn to think before you go leaping on your motorcycle and driving aimlessly—"

"I'm sorry, okay!" Shawn cut him off. "It's not like I wanted to be picked up by you and then crash off the road at two in the morning."

"Well, why were you out here in the first place?"

Shawn shook his head. "Forget it."

Henry sighed. "Shawn, I'm not repeating this argument."

"Then I have a solution: stop asking."

"Alright. Alright, I won't ask. I'll guess." Henry watched him. "And I'm guessing it has something to do with Juliet leaving."

Shawn stared out the window.

"Now, you've been after this girl pretty much since day one, right? Sweet talking her, charming her with your 'psychic skills' and whatnot. And then one day, she finally says yes, but you have to say no. Then when you're available, it's still off and on: she likes me, she doesn't like me, she's with someone, she isn't with someone, should I say something now or should I wait—"

"Yeah, Dad, okay, I get it." Shawn muttered, his head starting to throb even more.

"But now it's too late," Henry continued. "She's been snatched up by…oh what did Gus call him, Shawn 2.0?" He gave a slight chuckle.

"Yeah, very funny…" Man, his head hurt.

"So now you learn that she's going away with him for two weeks. And so now you're probably thinking 'I wonder if I should—'"

"No! See? That's just it!" Shawn burst out, his head pounding angrily as he turned toward his dad. "I was riding tonight because I wanted to get away from thinking! I am done with it. Okay? I-I'm done with guessing, I'm done with waiting, and, and testing and I just can't think anymore!"

Henry nodded coolly, unaffected by Shawn's outburst. "Fine. You don't want to think? Then do something."

"What do you mean?"

"For goodness sakes, Shawn, it's been five years. Have you ever said how you feel?"

"Of course." Shawn gave a firm nod.

"To Juliet or to Gus?

Shawn pinched his lips together.

"And there's your problem." Henry concluded, though Shawn's immediate thought, encouraged by the topic's end, was that the phrase 'saved by the bell' should be switched to 'saved by the siren.'


	3. Chapter 3

Shawn perched on the edge of the hospital bed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at all the doctor's questions; the same ones he'd been asked a dozen times by the paramedics that came for them on the road.

On the way in the hospital, Henry had brushed off assistance from the nurses, claiming only a few cuts and a sprained ankle as something he could take care of himself. Instead, he promoted his son's list of injuries, unable to decipher Shawn's frantic signals for him to shut up.

So now Shawn had to deal with the never ending stream of Doctorese, the language where no word was below a dozen letters and everything always came with a horrifying description of 'what could happen if you don't listen to me.'

Thanks, Dad.

"Now, your father mentioned that you blacked out after the crash and probably have a concussion," The doctor said, whose name tag declared him as Dr. Bryan Miller.

"Blacked out, fell asleep; it's very hard to tell the difference when it's 2:30 in the morning." Shawn winced as the man moved on to examining his arm.

"It also looks like you may have a fracture on your olecranon," Dr. Miller continued.

Shawn furrowed his brow. "My what?"

He gave a slight smirk. "You broke your elbow, kid."

"I've got to start watching Bones more often with Gus," Shawn muttered.

"Alright, we'll set you up for an X-ray of that arm in just a moment. Sit tight and I'll be right back."

"Look forward to it," Shawn said sarcastically as he watched the doctor leave the room, only to be replaced by his dad who was leading someone else into the room.

"Lassie!" Shawn called out as the Head Detective stepped through the threshold.

"I just have to wonder how it is that whenever I'm able to settle down for a nice relaxing marathon of COPS, you Spencers are always ruining it." Lassiter growled, grabbing his notebook from his pocket. "Now give me your statement of what happened so I can go back home."

"We're fine, by the way," Shawn cheerfully added with a grin. "Look! I broke my elbow! And my dad sprained his ankle, which I think is rather…"

Shawn trailed off when he heard his name called, not angrily by Lassiter who he'd successfully aggravated, but in concern by a voice that he had least expected.

He leaned to the side and looked past Carlton, staring in numb surprise. "Jules?"

"Shawn!" Juliet entered the room, concern highlighting her face as she halted a few feet in front of him and looked him over. "Oh, my gosh, what happened?" She shook her head, "Well, I mean, I know what happened, but – are you alright? You look terrible."

Shawn worked on blinking away the shock, shaking his head as her movements became fluttered, unsure of what to do. "I'm fine, Jules. No need to fret."

He focused on Juliet's worried face for a moment before his eyes slid past her, doing a slight double take when he suddenly noticed Henry and Lassiter were watching them. He cleared his throat.

Henry jerked in a breath. "Oh, right." He turned and tugged on Carlton's sleeve. "Come on."

Lassiter blinked in confusion. "But I didn't get his—"

"You can take mine. Let's go grab a coffee." Henry looked back at Shawn. "If you need anything, just say the magic words." He hinted, not so subtly.

Shawn forced a grateful smile until Juliet's back was turned. He then switched expressions, jerking his head toward the door as he mouthed at his dad, "Just get out of here!"

Henry turned to leave. Juliet watched him go, and then looked back at Shawn, biting her lip.

Shawn watched her eyes trace the cut along his temple and count the other minor cuts and bruises that showed. He smiled convincingly, "Jules, it's fine, really. It looks worse than it is."

Juliet nodded, playing with her thumbnail. "I know…I know, it was just a shock when I heard, I guess…and of course Carlton didn't give many – well, any details, really…I'm just glad you're okay." She shifted and then gave an upset sigh as she finally settled on giving him a hug.

As much as he didn't want to ruin the moment, Shawn couldn't help his sharp intake of breath as she accidently jostled his throbbing arm, sending a sharp pain through his elbow.

Juliet instantly jumped back. "I'm sorry! I—"

"No, no, hey, it's okay." Shawn bit back a wince, trying to change her concerned expression. His gaze was able to work a small accepting smile from her and his lips twitched up in response, pleased.

Then he just couldn't hold it in anymore. "So, what happened? I thought you'd left with Declan already on your super-duper extended vacation."

"I called it off." Juliet shook her head. "Which, I guess turned out to be okay because I was home when Carlton called about the accident."

"Oh…so Declan…" Shawn started.

"…Went on without me." Juliet finished with a slight shrug.

"Oh," Shawn said again, not sure what emotion he should show on the outside. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Oh, don't be. I'm kind of glad I didn't go now."

An awkward silence came between them as they both bobbed their heads, not sure of what to say next. Shawn's mind blanked, unable to think of anything.

Fine. You don't want to think? Then do something.

Shawn bit his lip as his father's voice repeated in his head.

He cleared his throat. "Um, Jules?"

She perked up, eager. "Yes?"

"I, uh—"

"Alright, ready for that X-ray?" Dr. Miller entered the room then, glancing up from a clipboard in his hands.

Really? Shawn thought, deflating as Juliet started to retreat out of the doctor's way.

"Um, I guess I'd better go then." She said, pointing with her thumb toward the door. "I just wanted to see if you were okay… I'll see you at the station, if you're up to it." She nodded, then toward the door.

For goodness sakes, Shawn, it's been five years. Have you ever said how you feel?

As much as he hated to admit it, his dad's echo was right. Something had always stopped him, whether it was timing, a situation, or himself.

But not this time. Declan was far too close of a call. It was now or never.

"Um, no, wait, Jules," Shawn called out, making sure she had stopped before he turned to Dr. Miller. "Uh, can, can you give us five minutes? Please?"

The doctor looked at them both and then gave an agreeing nod, backing out of the room.

"Thanks…" Shawn said, and then looked to Juliet, who was waiting for him to speak. His stomach folded nervously as he suddenly realized he now had to say something that summed up the past five years and made at least some coherent sense. "…Uh…"

Juliet gave a slight smile and Shawn wondered if she just felt sorry for him as he fumbled for words. He gave his head a slight shake, trying to clear it.

He carefully stood, holding his left arm close to him in an invisible sling as he took a few steps toward her. "I…uh…Jules, you…um…" Shawn paused, giving a slight humorless laugh. "You know, I've been waiting to say this for years, and now that I finally got my chance, I realize that I am totally unprepared. I have a speech thought up for nearly every occasion, except for this one. Well, I suppose I could tweak the 'First Man to Land on Planet Pluto' speech since that's now out of the realm of possibility, given Pluto's current state—"

"Shawn." Juliet re-grabbed his attention. He froze, watching her expression as she suggested, "Why don't you just say what's on your mind?"

Shawn glanced down and let out a breath, "Okay…" He shifted as he nodded, psyching himself up as he turned his gaze back to Juliet. "Okay."

And then he kissed her.


End file.
